


Breathing Underwater

by Who_Dat



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Tottenham Hotspur, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9611498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_Dat/pseuds/Who_Dat
Summary: -drowning:| verb |to be overwhelmed by a large amount of something.-in which Eric puts a literal meaning to  drowning his demons.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: insecure Eric/dele and then reassuring other
> 
> Hey guys, I'm back! So some of you may have noticed my create-a-prompt thread's disappeared. Unfortunately it got pulled down by archive, but good news I still have all your prompts and you should see some more coming out in the next few days! This one was inspired by all the quality footage Dele and Eric have given us from the pool lately, hope you enjoy!

The water's cool against his toes. Cool enough to make him shiver as he sheds his remaining layers, slipping into the pool with nothing more than a splash.

He feels so empty, but that's his own doing. He should be at home right now, attending to his boyfriends' every need. Dele's got a bit of a cold, and on any other day Eric would gladly rush home and play nurse. But today he can't, today he needs to clear his mind, and the best way to do that is in isolation.

Which brings him here. It's been an hour since training concluded and the rest of the boys were quick to clear out. He's not normally one to stay late, but if he does the pool's his go-to. The only difference is that today he doesn't have Dele by his side. Dele loves to swim, probably more than anyone Eric knows. He still remembers their first time at the pool together with vivid clarity, back when Dele was nothing more than potential and Eric questioned where he belonged.

Taking Dele under his wing was a spur of the moment thing. It didn't take a genius to know that the club weren't happy about it. They wanted Harry to do it, and considering his status as Tottenham's golden boy, it would've made sense. But Dele was just... attracted to Eric for some reason and it didn't take long for that feeling to become mutual.

Dele had an uncanny obsession for the pool during his first couple months at the club, and Eric couldn't really blame him. He'd come all the way from League One, where facilities didn't hold a candle to the lavish likes of the Premier League.

_Training had been miserable that day. The heat was practically unbearable, so much so that even Pochettino, who thrived on his infamous double sessions, felt pang of sympathy for them, limiting their sprints for the first time in ages._

_By the time the first half of the session had finished, Eric was drenched in sweat from head to toe. Thankfully that issue was sorted out with a quick spin through the shower. With two hours before their second session, most of the boys were off to the common room. He would've liked a kip, but Dele seemed to have other ideas, wrapping his arms around him as he attempted to exit the changing room._

_"Eric!"_

_"Ugh, you smell awful."_

_"Thanks, wanna come for a swim with me?" Dele was unusually energetic that morning, poking Eric's sides encouragingly._

_"No, what I want is a nice long nap, you will too once you clean yourself up."_

_"Well I guess I'll see you later then." Dele's expression rivalled that of a stubborn toddler and Eric couldn't help it giggle as his friend dramatically stormed off._

_"I'll save you a spot!" Dele didn't respond, but he certainly heard him, and Eric was expecting him to show up at some point, so naturally he was worried after fifteen Dele-less minutes._

_That brought him to the pool. It was empty, apart from Dele's training gear tossed haphazardly across the deck. Eric shook his head, taking a minute to fold everything neatly; a force of habit. He then took a seat at the edge of the pool. Dele was submerged underwater, blowing bubbles without a care in the world. Looking back on it, he was probably already in love with Dele at that point, considering he couldn't leave him alone for more than a few minutes. When Dele popped up from the water his initial surprise quickly turned to a smug grin._

_"Well, what are you waiting for? Get in!"_

_"I think I'll pass."_

_"Then why are you even here?"_

_That was a good question, yet Eric had been on top of his game._

_"To make sure you don't drown."_

_"Hey, I can swim just fine!"_

_"Still, with you it's better to be safe than sorry."_

Even the tsunami of water Dele attacked him with afterward doesn't taint the memory. It makes him feel warm at a time when he really shouldn't, not after the past couple games he's had.

That's what he's here to do, to drown those demons in the frigid water of the pool. He's always been efficient when it comes to drilling himself, so he's looking to put that to good use and drill himself back into form.

Laps. As many as it takes to forget. After every hapless performance, this is what he's gonna do, starting today.

He loses himself after about fifteen laps.

Back and fourth, back and fourth.

By the time he reaches twenty he knows he's pushed himself too hard. He grabs the ledge of the pool, gasping for breath. Since when did he start going so quickly? He can't even handle his own form-seeking regimen! He's that pathetic. This calls for more laps, proper laps, as many as it takes to wash away his abysmal form. In the couple minutes it takes for him to catch his breath, he realizes that he's not alone.

Dele's seated at the edge of the pool, bundled up in one of Eric's baggy grey hoodies. To be fair to him, it is chilly, but considering his sickness, it's probably better that he's got a few extra layers on. But even then, Eric still worries.

"What are you doing here? You should be resting." He sounds like a nagging mother, but it's true, Dele missed training today for a reason.

"Making sure you don't drown."

"I'm not going to drown Dele."

"I'm not so sure."

"I'm a better swimmer than you are."

"That's not what I mean." He fiddles with the string of the sweats and it only takes Eric a couple seconds to realize what he's doing.

"Hey, you're not allowed in!"

"Why not?" Dele's peeling off his thick socks now, placing them neatly on Eric's towel.

"It's too cold for you, you're sick Dele."

"I'll be fine, I promise."

"You're allowed to put your feet in, that's it. The rest of your clothes stay on."

"That doesn't sound like you Eric."

"Clothes on."

"I'm warm though..." Dele mutters, stripping Eric's hoodie and the long sleeved shirt beneath it, revealing his muscular chest. Eric can feel his cheeks heating up, and it's certainly not from his exercise.

"Dele, clothes on. You're sick."

No response. Dele seats himself on the edge of the pool deck, slowly placing his feet in the water before attempting to splash him.

"Hey!" Eric dives under to evade the next wave of water, only for it to never come. Instead he hears a single splash and he's up in an instant.

Of course Dele wouldn't listen. His own boyfriend doesn't even take him seriously and he's fucking fuming.

Dele can sense it too, taking a tentative step back, puppy dog eyes and all. Before he even has the chance to plead his innocence Eric is up and at him.

"If you even think of saying it was an accident, I'm going to kill you, I'm honestly going to kill you."

"I wasn't!"

Dele's shivering. As much as Eric would like to say 'I told you so' he worries for his boyfriends' health more than anything. He quickly swims over, wrapping his arms around Dele's waist, carefully lifting him up before Dele starts kicking.

"Eric wait! No!"

"You're shivering!"

"And you're drowning!"

"What?"

"You're mad at yourself, and you're drowning in all that anger."

"I think you have a fever, you're not making any sense Dele. Come on, let's get out of here." Dele continues his kicking. He's still shivering a bit, which is worrying Eric more by the second.

"Not until you tell me why you're so upset."

"You know why."

"Eric... you're being too hard on yourself."

"Am I? Am I really? I'm the weakest link in the team. That's why Poch replaced me. As soon as everyone's fit I'm just another Tom, or Nabil, or-"

Dele kisses his cheek softly, causing Eric to momentarily lose his train of thought.

"You're not the weakest link love, I promise."

As cute as Dele's being right now, Eric isn't naïve. He wishes he could believe him, he really does, but he can't lie to himself anymore. He needs to wake up.

"Dele, you don't understand. You're irreplaceable to Poch, I'm not. He saw someone who fit his scheme better than me, and now it's only a matter of time."

"No, you don't understand! I'm not dumb Eric! Why does he make you captain then? He trusts you and-"

"Yeah, and how many regular starters play when I'm captain? I captain a reserve side. I'm the only starter in there and soon I won't even be that."

"Does that mean you're gonna leave?" It's soft, barely a whisper into his neck. It's so intimate, filled with too many meanings.

"I'm going to explore my options..." it pains him to say it, but deep inside he knows it's the truth.

"Okay Eric, okay."

And then silence. Silence that he has to break.

"Hey, look at me, are you angry?" Dele's got a bit of a temper, and he certainly wouldn't have wanted to hear that.

Nothing.

"Love?"

...

"Dele?"

"I'll follow you Eric, wherever you go I'll follow you." It sends shivers down Eric's spine. And he means it, with every bit of his heart.

"You can't do that. What if I end up somewhere weaker, like an Everton or a West Ham? You can't follow me there."

"I can and I will, we come as a package."

"Dele you don't know what you're saying. Real Madrid want you, Barca want you, PSG, Bayern, you can't throw that away."

"I could for you. Besides, Bayern wanted you too, so we could both go there."

"You couldn't survive in Germany."

"I could with you."

"But you're so-"

"English? Uncultured? I know, you tell me all the time."

"Hey, I don't-"

"I know you don't mean it. But I want to make you happy, just like you make me happy."

Oh god he's blushing, he's definitely blushing.

"I'm gonna learn Portuguese, then I'll learn German, and then-"

He has to stop him there, because he really doesn't deserve Dele, "Hey, you're putting too much pressure on yourself. You don't need to learn two more languages to make me happy, you make me happy just the way you are."

And now Dele looks up at him, grinning from ear to ear, "Well then Eric, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

It's way too smug and Eric's wondering what the hell he's gotten himself into.

And then it hits him.

Pressure.

"I'm not-"

"Eric, you've played two different positions this season. You can switch from midfield to defence without batting an eyelash, and I wish... I wish you could see how special that makes you."

"I wouldn't say it makes me special..." He's blushing again. Sweet isn't usually a word he'd associate with Dele, but being praised by his wonderkid of a boyfriend makes him feel beyond warm inside.

"To me it does. When I've got you behind me I feel safe. I don't feel that way about anyone else."

"You really feel safe when I score an own goal?"

Dele giggles, placing his hands on Eric's shoulders, "Even when you score an own goal, so please stop being so hard on yourself love."

"Okay I'll stop, happy now?"

"Very."

"Good, now get out of the water, you're shivering."

"Eric! We were having a moment!" Dele yelps as Eric lifts him onto the deck. He's feeling a bit chilly himself which means getting out of the pool is an absolute must.

"Too bad. I'm cold and you're sick, we're going home."

"You're so romantic." Dele snorts, drying himself off haphazardly.

"Shut up, you love me anyway." He giggles, snatching the towel away.

"I do, but Eric,"

"Yeah?"

"If you ever feel like you're drowning tell me, okay?

"It's not going to happen again...."

"Still, with you it's better to be safe than sorry."

That sounds familiar, yet so distant. Where's he heard it before?

Oh well, he'll probably remember when he can feel his toes again.

-

Fin.


End file.
